


The Third Floor

by Destiel_Bear



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cole is a dick, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but it can be read like that i guess, but still, first destiel fic, he beats up Dean, hurt!Dean, i dont say specifically that they're dating, i wrote this for english class, its not really romantic, its not very graphic, motherhen!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_Bear/pseuds/Destiel_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas gets home from school to find out that he forgot his key inside his room... If only Dean would open the damn door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Floor

**Author's Note:**

> hey so I wrote this for my English class at last minute and I thought "why not post it online?" It's my second fic ever and my first destiel fic, so give me feedback please, I appreciate it a lot :)

Castiel pounded on the door once more, wincing slightly at the hard door against his already-sore knuckles.

“Come on...” He muttered impatiently while tapping his foot to the beat behind the closed (and unfortunately locked) door. He had forgotten his dorm key inside and his roommate, Dean's, music was so loud that he could not hear Cas pounding on the door for the last five minutes. Sighing resentfully, Cas turned on his heel and strode towards the Exit. He and Dean had moved in to the same dorm room last month, after Cas' friend, Balthazar, decided he would much rather like to stay with Dean's roommate, Benny, than he would Cas. It worked out well. Benny and Balthazar had similar interests and became fast friends. Dean and Castiel followed them in that quite quickly. 

Making quick work of the stairs, Castiel threw open the door to the courtyard where all of the dorms' small windows overlooked. He could hear Dean's music blasting through the open window to their room and groaned. Should he throw something through the window? Climb the building? Try to yell at him? But of course that wouldn't work, seeing as he'd already tried that at way closer proximity. Just as Cas was trying to figure out if there was any easy way to climb to the third floor, something caught his eye. There was a small crowd forming at the bike racks that was slowly gaining more onlookers. Cas speed walked towards them. Cas absolutely did not stand on his toes and jump up and down, trying to get a good look at what was going on through the crowd, and he would defend that statement until his grave. 

Cas finally had had enough and just pushed his way to the front of the crowd, where there were two people engaging in a fist fight. It seemed to be pretty one-sided, as the one with the dirty blonde hair wasn't fighting back much. Wait. He looked familiar. Was that..?

“Dean?” Castiel asked, confused. Dean's eyes met his for a split second before the guy he was fighting rammed his fist into Dean's stomach. That was all the encouragement that Cas needed. Deans green eyes had been rimmed with red and there was blood in his teeth and dribbling from his nose. With a surge of confidence, Cas stepped forward enough to put his hand on the guys forearm, stopping him mid-punch.

“I think it would be wise to stop this.” Castiel said, barely keeping his voice under control.

“Or you could join him if you don't get that hand off of me.” The guy said, fury laced with his voice. Castiel just laughed. He'd been in his fair share of fights, and he could take this one without raising a finger. But, that probably wasn't the best choice of action to take. So instead Cas took his hand off the guys arm and put his hands up mock-defensively. He raised his eyebrows. Sure, his hand wasn't on the guy anymore, but he was still in the way of the guy's next punch. 

“Why don't you just walk away, buddy.” The guy- he really needed to stop calling him 'the guy'- seethed. 

Cas thought for a second, feigning consideration, before stoning his face in a way he knew intimidated people. 

“Or you could stop overcompensating by beating up my friend here.” Cas said with a smirk. He could hear the various shouts of encouragement coming from the crowd, from “SICK BURN BRO” to “YOU JUST GOT RECKED, COLE”. Ah, yes. Now Cas had a name to the face. Cole. It was fitting, he thought.   
Cole had turned bright red, from anger or embarrassment, Cas didn't know. He opened his mouth as to say something snarky to Cas, but just clenched his jaw and turned away. The crowd made a wide path for him to storm dramatically out of. Cas felt so smug that he almost forgot about Dean. He whipped around, kneeling beside Dean and putting a hand on his shoulder, shaking gently. He raised his head just enough to say:

“Alright, everyone, show's over! Move along!” The crowd thinned slowly, the people trickling away to go about their daily business. 

Looking back at Dean, Cas realized his eyes had closed and his breathing had evened out. He was asleep. 

“Dean?” Cas shook his shoulder lightly, cause they had to get back up to their dorm- and Cas didn't think it was very likely that he could carry Dean up three flights of stairs. He felt Dean stirring slightly under his hand. 

“Hey, Dean, can you open your eyes?” Cas asked. He heard Dean mumble something, and Cas leaned down to hear it.

“Where's the snooze button...” Cas chuckled, happy that Dean had enough in him to have a sense of humour at least. 

“Sorry, bud. Unfortunately I don't have one.” Dean groaned and opened one eye just a bit. Cas raised his eyebrows. Dean chuckled a little and then groaned, clutching his stomach. 

“Shoot. Dean, can you walk? We need to get to our room so we can clean you up.” And it was true, too. Dean had blood all over his face and shirt along with dirt. Getting beat to a pulp is bad enough, Dean didn't need an infection on top of it. 

“I don't know, maybe?” Dean winced slightly as he said this, his lip curling back in the slightest. 

“Okay. Come on then. Let's try.” Cas got Deans left arm wrapped around his shoulders and Cas wrapped his right arm around Dean's waist. After a few minutes, they managed to get Dean on his feet. Although they was practically doubled over, it was a start. They stood a few minutes like that, Cas waiting for Dean to catch his breath.

“Cas. Cas wait.” Dean gasped out when Cas started trying to straighten Dean so he was standing upright. Cas stopped moving and tried to get a better look at Dean's face, trying to discern what the matter was. But Deans head was bowed so low that Cas gave up after a few seconds. Instead, he opted for talking.

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asked gently. 

“Just,” He took a shuddering breath that worried Cas more than it should have “gimme a sec”. Dean's breathing was ragged and uneven, and Cas could feel his pulse beating through his wrist, where it rested on his left shoulder. Cas was only vaguely aware of the curious glances that they were receiving from students that were passing by. After a moment, Deans breathing and pulse evened out and he straightened himself out with a wince. Cas looked him in the eyes, his eyebrows raised in a silent question:   
Are you okay? 

Dean closed his eyes and nodded slightly. 

When Cas started moving in the direction of the door, he could hear Dan gasp and feel him wince, but he had a mission and intended to get it done as soon as possible, so he powered on. Slow and steady wins the race, Cas thought bitterly. 

When they got to the door, Cas precariously shifted Dean's weight so he was more or less laying vertically on top of him. Of course Dean was no help in this situation- quite the opposite, really. He was dead weight now, barely keeping his eyes open and head upright. 

“Come on, Dean, work with me here.” Cas muttered under his breath. He opened the door with the shoulder that wasn't already occupied by Dean and shuffled through the doorway, half-dragging and half-carrying Dean with him. 

Dean groaned almost every time Cas took another step up the stairs. It was times like this that he really wished that the campus had an elevator. Finally arriving at their floor, Cas was reminded of why he came out to the courtyard in the first place; he was locked out of the apartment. Now it was Cas' turn to groan. He felt Dean lift his eyebrows where they rested on his shoulder, a silent question in the gesture. 

“You wouldn't happen to have your room key on you, would you?” He asked, mentally crossing his fingers.

“Uh huh, inside jacket pocket.” Dean answered tensely. He sounded a lot more awake, but still pained. Cas let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding. Cas started rummaging around Deans leather jacket's inside pockets, looking for the key. Of course it was in the last pocket that he checked, 'cause that's just his luck. He finally got the key out and jiggled it into the lock, the door opening with a click. Cas was still carrying his bag, so the first thing he did was dump that on the floor next to the coat rack. Shutting the door with his foot, Cas made his way down the short hallway that led to the main room. Hobbling over to the 'L' shaped couch, Cas carefully situated Dean where the corners of the two couches met. Dean always called it 'the couch potato spot' and it was his favourite place to sit. 

“Stay there, I'll be right back.” Cas said as he started toward the bathroom to find the first aid kit. He faintly heard Dean say some along the lines of 'where the hell does he think I'll go'.

Cas came back with a clean washcloth and some warm water to wash Dean's face with as well as the first aid kid. He sat down beside Dean and didn't waste any time; wetting the corner of the cloth and gently wiping away the dried blood. 

“How are your ribs?” Cas asked. He'd seen how much pain Dean was in whenever he breathed in and wanted to make sure that none were broken. Dean took a deep, stuttering breath in, then let it out slowly. 

“I don't think that any are broken,” He paused to take another breath.   
“But I think I've got some nasty bruises forming on them.” He winced as Cas ran the cloth over a particularly bad cut on his lip, causing a miniscule trickle of blood to flow down his chin. 

“Shoot, sorry 'bout that.” Cas apologized, holding the cloth to the cut gently. Dean rolled his eyes jokingly, making Cas smile apologetically. After a few moments, he took the cloth off the cut, cleaned it off, and got to work on the rest of his face. 

“So,” Cas started, he glanced at Dean's eyes and then back down to what he was doing. “Wanna tell me how you managed to piss that guy off so bad?” 

And then Dean smirked, looking too smug for his own good. Most of his face was cleaned off now, and Cas could already see the bruises forming. 

“There was this kid- this guy was, like, fresh out of high school- anyway that guy, Cole, started pickin' on him, callin' him a fag, stuff like that, y'know?” Cas winced at the nasty slur, but nodded his head, signalling for Dean to continue with his story as he put down the cloth and started on getting Dean's shirt off. 

“Anyway, I saw this all happening from the window-” Cas cut him off.

“The WINDOW? How the hell did you get down? We're on the third floor!”

Cas tried tugging on Dean's shirt, but it was stuck to his skin. He grabbed the washcloth and started dampening the fabric where the dried blood had acted as a glue and glued Dean's shirt to his chest.

“I climbed down. That's not the point though. Anyway when I got down there, things were turning pretty physical; nothing too bad, but you could tell that the poor guy was pretty scared. Anyway I stepped in and said to knock it off, right? I mean, who wouldn't?” Cas started lifting the hem of Dean's shirt, but soon realized what a problem this was going to pose. 

“I know this sucks but Dean; I need you to lift your arms for me. It'll only take a second.” Cas said with a grimace. Dean gave a him a suffering look but obliged. He lifted his arms above his head and Cas slipped the shirt off as quick as he could without hurting him more. As soon as the shirt was off, Dean's arms flopped back down. Cas took the same cloth and got to work on cleaning Deans chest and arms. 

“So I stepped in and tried to be reasonable, I really did. But he hardly even spared me a second glance. So I tried to stop him physically- and not like a punch or anything, no, I just put my hand on his arm when he went in for another shove towards the kid and said to knock it off again.” Dean sighed. “That probably wasn't the best move. As soon as I touched his arm he went absolutely ballistic. Full out punching and kicking. I didn't really fight back cause I didn't want him to somehow turn it on me and say that I started it or something equally as stupid.” Cas had cleaned off all of the blood by now, and started looking for some butterfly band-aids to put on some particularly nasty-looking cuts that didn't quite need stitches but still needed something. He found a few and started carefully placing them in various areas: one below his lip, one above the eyebrow, and a couple more littering his face.

“You did the right thing, Dean.” Cas said as he placed the last butterfly band-aid. He finished up by washing up the less severe looking scrapes with disinfectant wash.

“Do you think you can change into some more comfy pants? Or do you need me to assist you.” Dean was still wearing his jeans- and they couldn't be too comfortable to lounge around in. 

“Can you help me to my room? I'll take it from there.” Dean asked, looking up at Cas.  
“Sure, 'kay, so put your arm around my neck.” Cas instructed. Dean put his arm around Cas' neck and the two of them made their way down to Dean's room. Dean went on inside while Cas waited outside his door. 

“So anyway you can guess what happened after that.” Deans voice sounded from behind the door. Castiel waited a few more moments and the door opened, revealing Dean in comfy-looking sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.

“What about the guy that Cole was beating up?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled, but it seemed bitter. 

“Bastard ran as soon as I stepped in.” Dean said. “This is what I get for helping people?” He raised an eyebrow and gestured to his face, where most of the cuts were. “Gosh, remind me to never do that again.” They walked to the couch and sat down, side by side. 

“Well, as long as you feel you did the right thing, then it wasn't a complete waste of kindness.” Cas flicked the T.V. on and said: “Star Wars?” 

“Hell yeah.” He paused a few seconds. Something was missing. Something important. 

“Wait, man. We need some pie.” 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time 1 am rolled around, Dean and Castiel were passed out beside one another, empty pie tin on the coffee table and Star Wars playing in the background.


End file.
